thegraverunnersguildfandomcom-20200216-history
TRP: Larkin, Reuben, and Ripley (Bloodline)
Coyote: ''' a couple weeks after the Diva fight. Ripley goes to Larkin for help with a job. Ripley studied the sketch for a long time. The Bloodline Opal, Mishka had said. Stolen during the apocalypse, Mishka said. The royal family would be incredibly grateful if someone— say, Joan Ripley— tracked it down and rescued it. She really hoped this wasn’t another of Mishka’s weird schemes, but it almost definitely was. She walked to the Basha’s main warehouse— the one where they supposed definitely didn’t do crime. She passed a note to one of the guards. “Hey. I ain’t here to start a fight. Need to parlay with Larkin Basha.” The note was unsealed. Hey, Larkin. It’s Ripley. Need to hire you for something. Waiting outside. Interested? '''Jen: Larkin read the note and was about to tell the guy who had handed it to her to send Ripley away - it wasn't like she didn't want to see her, only that Larkin didn't really have the time right now. Though... it'd been a while since Larkin had talked to her now ex-boss. And if she was bein honest, she was interested in the job. Would be something different for once than the management work Renar's had her do these past weeks. Larkin exited the warehouse through the smaller side door and circled around until she spotted Ripley. She called out to her and raised a hand for a greeting. Coyote: ''' Ripley raised her hand back. She stepped aside from the warehouse uncomfortably— it was weird, being here. “Got something fun to do,” she said, eying Larkin. “Normally I’d ask Ombre, but— well, I think you’ve got the contacts I need.” And Ombre had taken off. She pulled the sketch out of her pocket. “Somebody stole this. Priceless artifact, or so they say. The Bloodline Opal. Used to belong to Prince Rina... very recognizable item. Somebody nicked it during the apocalypse. I can only assume it’s being bought and sold on the black market right now. No leads. Do you have any clue who might have it? Which fence someone might go to for shit like this?” The opal was expensive— and unique. That took a special kind of merchant to move. She made no mention or price. Larkin would name it, likely. '''Jen: Larkin took a glance at the sketch and made a humming sound, thinking about it. "Not sure," she said after a minute. "Haven't heard of any of the associates dealing this. And I guess I would, if it's priceless like that. If it's in the black market, it is nowhere I can reach." she shrugged. "Maybe the guild has it." Coyote: ''' “Any chance you can look into it? There’s a reward.” Ripley drummed her fingers on her leg. “Gem this big— I’m concerned, see, this is a time-sensitive matter. Can’t be sold like this. Someone might cut it up to sell the smaller pieces. Worth way less like that, but it’d be easier for them to move. I’d rather get it before that happens. Or someone might sell whole to a private collector.” '''Jen: "Not sure who'd be buying things like this right now. Not many people left in Skyport who got the money to spare. Might be easier to track it like that but..." Larkin nodded. "You're right about it getting cut up. I can hear around if someone's been offering or bragging about a big catch, sure. Might take a day or two though." Coyote: ''' “No problem. Good point about the money thing. Maybe they’d look for a seller in Moorland— contacts say the plague didn’t reach there.” Moorland was only two or three days inland. Less, if you had a fast horse. If it reached Moorland, it might be harder to find. That fuckin’ place. November 23, 2018 '''Jen: They agreed on a price - for Larkin's efforts and a little extra for the bribes and payments she would likely have to make to get the information they needed. To her surprise it didn't take her half as long as she had assumed to find a lead. One of the new recruits, formerly a soldier of the church and now building herself a new carrier with Renar, had recalled the stone immediately. "Oh, sure. I've seen it. Been there when it got taken; We've been evacuating the royal floor and one of the paladins swiped it as we left. I asked what he was doing but he told me to shut the fuck up and mind my own business. Probably figured there wouldn't be anyone left to miss it soon." She also told Larkin this paladin had a brother running his own jewellery workshop. Chances were, this was where it had ended up. After going to take a look at the shop and asking around a few more questions, Larkin determined two main problems: first, there was no proof that the Opal was really in there. And second, the goldsmith seemed to have contacts to the Skyport Thieves. Dealing with rivals never made things easier. The next evening, Larkin went to relay this information to Ripley. She might have spent more time collecting clues but the fact that the Opal might have ended up with a jeweller meant it was all the more likely it would be cut to pieces before long. Coyote: ''' Joan sat quietly on the porch of Mishka’s estate, listening as Larkin relayed this information to her. A paladin and a goldsmith. Limited time, then, before the gem was cut. Problem was, if the paladin was working for the church— then there was no one to arrest him. Joan disliked being out in this position. Shady stuff. Breaking the law. Joan was straight-laced. She would’ve rather just turned him in. She mulled over this. “Huh. Well. Guess we’re... fuckin’ breaking in, then.” '''Jen: "I kinda assumed that was the plan here," Larkin said. "We can try 'n buy it from the guy but... it's not exactly lying around in the display window. He'll probably get suspicious if you just come in and ask for it... or, I guess we can go in and take it from him at knifepoint." Larkin schrugged. "Doesn't matter to me either way." Coyote: ''' “I don’t normally...” She waved her hand. “Do this shit, y’know. It’s fine, I’m just rusty.” Straight-edged, Goro has called her. “Suppose it doesn’t matter if he sees us or not. Or if we leave him alive or not,” she said. “Not like he’s gonna say anything. That’s the bright side of robbing criminals, I guess. What’s he gonna do, go tell the City Watch we took his stolen goods?” Actually, they could probably rob the guy clean while they were there— no. No, she was already going too far with this shit. '''Jen: "Well, he could tell the guild. Don't know how deep that guy is in there but they probably won't be too happy about getting robbed. Best we don't let him see our faces." Larkin paused for a moment, thinking. "You want to come with? It's nice having back up and all but I don't need someone else to do the job. Especially if they don't know what they're about." Coyote: ''' “Yeah, we’re on the same page about that,” Joan said. “I’m not good at that stealthy stuff. Tell you what. We both go. I’ll wait in the alley. You go in, see if you can find it. If you can’t— unlock the back door. We’ll hold the guy down, get him to tell us where it is. Good plan?” '''Jen: "Good as any. I'll be honest, normally I wouldn't do it on such short notice. Find out more information, make a real plan, you know. This is...well, I'm not saying things will go wrong but - y' know, just warning you. They might." Coyote: ''' Ha. This was what Joan liked about this one. Zero bullshit. Joan waved her hand. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” '''Jen: They entered the scene together. Once crossing the invisible border into thieves' guild territory, Larkin was on constant lookout for followers and watching eyes. Of course, this was their home and they had so many more options for keeping track of comings and goings than Larkin had for keeping their presence secret - still, it wouldn't hurt to stick to the shadows. They circled the building in a wide arc, or as close to an arc as the course of the streets would allow, and approached it from the back. The jeweller's shop was a small fortress. Two stories high, with the ground floor solid stone, double deadbolts at both front and back door and steel mesh formed to elaborate patterns in front of the windows. Larkin left Ripley waiting a cross street away from the shop. Close enough to be still in view but far enough to hopefully not be screaming 'burglars' if Joan attracted some kind of attention. sticking to the plan she'd made the day before, Larkin scaled and adjacent building, then crossed the last of the distance of roof top. Even up here, they had taken security measures. But the steel mesh around the skylight was old and not as well tendes and where it fastened into the wood, the fixtures were rusty and warped. Larkin unhooked the small crowbar from her belt she'd specifically brought for this and begann levering the mesh out of its anchoring. It took some time and effort but eventually, it allowed her access to the window. A few minutes later, she'd pried out a window pane large enough to wriggle through and drop to the floor below. Everything after this was routine. Of course, one could never be entirely sure what waited inside a mark, but the process stayed the same. Larkin cleared the floors silently, figuring out the layout of the shop and keeping an eye out for any unpleasant surprises. She found armed traps and alarms on the insides of the doors and lower windows and a large safe in an office room which she took the time to pick. It was an old one, a familiar model and it yielded easily enough. The items inside went into her pockets but unfortunately, none of them were the Opal they were here for. That meant it was either hidden in a place Larkin hadn't discovered yet or it wasn't here at all. However, there was still one room she hadn't checked yet. It was locked and when probing the lock, Larkin had heard faint rustling sounds from within. Very likely the jeweller sleeping in his bedroom. Where best to keep a priceless royal heirloom than under one's pillow? Twenty minutes after Larkin had climbed up to the roof, the backdoor of the jeweller's shop cracked open. A tiefling's face peered out, looked left and right and up to the roofs, then she waved in the direction Joan waited in. Coyote: ''' And there Larkin was, silently, about thirty minutes later. Joan shook her head silently in admiration. That fuckin' tiefling. She pulled her hood over her face, then shifted her scarf to cover her mouth and nose. She hadn't worn armor, only soft elven chainmail, largely silent. And she'd left her trademark sword behind; too recognizable, if she knew someone. She followed Larkin inside. She flashed handsigns, unsure if there was anyone close by. Any luck? She hoped those handsigns still meant what she thought they did. She was rusty, and she was more used to the Calimport dialect of twenty years ago than the Skyport dialect of today. '''Jen: Was that... a handsign or did Joan just have to shake a cramp out of her hand? Larkin raised an eyebrow, then pulled down her cloth mask and whispered close to Joan's ear. "No opal in here. Found a hidden safe, though, but ain't got the tools to open it. Owner's sleeping upstairs. Might have to rough him up a bit." Coyote: ''' Joan shrugged, dropping her hand. She hoped that appropriately signaled Works fine for me. She waited to follow Larkin up the stairs. "You talking, or me?" '''Jen: "No preference. I can talk if you want." But you might not like my methods. Coyote: ''' Huh. Joan's mouth quirked up. On one hand, she really missed getting her hands dirty. God, she was so fucking sick of paperwork. Felt good to be out doing shit like this again. On the other hand... Joan glanced at Larkin a minute, watching her. "You talk, then." She was interested to see how Larkin did it. So far all she knew about Larkin Basha was that-- despite being Renar Basha's only heir-- she was still working jobs like this instead of working management. At first, Joan had assumed Larkin Basha must just be a dud, somebody Renar didn't trust with the management-type tasks. But as soon as Joan hired her, it'd become apparent that wasn't the case. '''Jen: Larkin guided Joan to the bedroom door and pushed it open, stopping for a heatbeat when it creaked. But the man sleeping in the large bed across the room did not stirr, so she entered all the way. Joan followed behind. Larkin pointed down at the foot of the bed as she moved past, indicating where the safe was located. Then she positioned herself on one side of the bed and pulled up her mask and hood and drew a dagger. She pointed at the sleeping man with it and covered her mouth with her free hand, looking at Joan. November 24, 2018 Coyote: ''' Hm. How best to do this. Joan drew her hunting knife. She gripped the man and pulled him over. She stayed behind him so he wouldn’t get a good look at her face— even hidden as it was— and held the knife at his throat. She stayed silent, and still. She kept a firm grip on the man as he gasped and floundered awake. '''Jen: "Wha- ah! Ah!" The jeweller struggled against Ripley's grip but at the touch of the blade, he tensed up. He craned his neck around, tryin to get away from it and started yelling at them. "Who are you scums? Wha- what's going on, get out of my bedroom! Get out of my house!" Larkin ground her teeth. She'd hoped Ripley would get the sign and put a hand over his mouth to shut him up. Whatever. Not like there was anyone around to heart him. She raised a finger to her face and shushed at him. "Shut up," she said. The man glowered at her, eyes wide with panick but apparently still dumb from sleep. "Get your fucking dirty hands off me! I'll have you arrested and-" Larkin hopped up onto the bed and kicked him in the stomach. He huffed out his breath and curled up around himself as much as he could in Joan's grip. "Listen," Larkin said, making her voice a bit lower than usual. Not the best disguise but better than nothing. If they let him live, she didn't want him to recognize her voice again by coincidence. "Hey. Look at me." He was gasping and not focusing, so she bent down and slapped his cheek until he looked at her. "You hear me? Good." She sat down on the bed next to him. "Listen carefully now because I'm not gonna repeat myself. We're not here to hurt you. That one," she motioned at his stomach, "was on you. You got something we want and you're gonna give it to us. We'll take it and leave. Everyone's happy. Now, if you give us any trouble," she lifted her dagger and let it reflect the faint light in the room, "my friend here is gonna hold you down while I cut off a finger. You're a gold smith, so I 'spose you'd like to keep all of your fingers, right?" He stared at her, breath coming sharp and rapidly. Coyote: ''' Yeah, Joan decided; Larkin was the right choice for this. Joan kept still and let her work. '''Jen: "I take that we agree," Larkin said after a moment. She got up and hopped down from the bed. "So, where's the opal?" He continued to stare at her for a heatbeat longer, then he shouted "Reuben! Reuben, help! Help me!" Larkin rolled her eyes and let Joan take care of this. Coyote: ''' Joan debated over whether to just punch the man in the stomach or... something else. Had to shut him up now, which called for more drastic measures. Couldn’t wait. She silently called up the power of her god. “Hush,” she said, forcing her will into the command. Immediately, the man fell eerily silent. She’d used paladin magic against him. So now, bare minimum, the man knew they weren’t common street thieves. Joan dragged the man out of bed and slammed him against the wall. She kept her voice low, calm, and steady. “None of us want this to escalate. Tell us the truth and we’ll be on our way.” She forced her will into it again. '''Jen: They always had to make it complicated, didn't they? "You can cut it out," Larkin said, moving after Ripley. "No one's coming for you." The jeweller whimpered, looking back and forth between them. "Where's my brother? What'd you do to him?" "Wrong fucking answer." Larkin grabbed one of his hands and shoved it up against the wall. The blade bit into the flesh between his index and middle finger. Coyote: ''' Joan kept her voice calm and pleasant. “That’s unnecessary, don’t you think? Come on. Don’t hurt the man.” She motioned to Larkin in Thieves’ Cant: Good paladin, bad paladin? Hadn’t done much good earlier when she’d tried to sign at Larkin, but it was worth a shot. Then she turned her face back to the jeweler. “Look, friend. There’s no need to be afraid. And there’s no need for finger-cutting... or even throat-cutting. You have something valuable. We’d like it. You can’t sell it if your dead. The best outcome here for everyone is if we all just calm down and you tell us where it is.” '''Jen: Larkin scowled at Ripley - a wasted effort, because her mask hid everything but her eyes. "Points have to be made," she said but didn't cut further. She did not let go of the man's hand either, hoping to drive home the point that this was no idle threat. "Oh my god. Helm, help me," the jeweller muttered under his breath, then jerked his head at the bed. "The safe. It's in the safe." Larkin let go of his hand. "Good decision. Let's go get it." Coyote: ''' Huh. No reaction to the hand sign. Joan caught the glare, but she couldn’t tell if Larkin was genuinely angry at her or just playing it up for the sake of scaring the jeweler. Well. Either way. It worked. Joan let go, but stayed within grabbing distance. The man knelt, then pulled aside a rug that went partially under the bed, revealing a square safe installed in the floor. He entered the combination with shaking fingers, and the safe popped open. '''Jen: As soon as he had it open, Larkin made the man stumble back from the safe by waving the dagger at him. She glanced at Ripley, making sure she had control over the situation before kneeling down and looking at the contents. There were stacks of paper in there, securities probably, a small book and a set of keys. And under the stack of paper... Larkin lifted up the velvet bag and opened it. Out came a smooth, tear-cut stone bordered with intricately woven silver threads. Even in the darkness it shone with countless inner facettes. The Bloodline Opal, no doubt. Larkin held it up for Ripley to see. "Think we're good." Coyote: ''' Ripley touched the man lightly on the shoulder, pushing calm, sweet feelings into him. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed on the ground. Joan picked him up and set him back into bed. There. Easy. '''Jen: "You done coddling the guy?" Larkin called under her breath, standing in the doorway. "Gotta get out. There was no one when I checked but it sounded like he thought his brother was here." She peered out into the hallway, checking if the air was still clear. November 26, 2018 Coyote: '''at 12:34 PM The door downstairs in the other room jiggled. A figure stepped in, stumbling a little. Reuben Howard looked pleased and drunk, hair mussed, like he’d been celebrating. There was no sign of his usual paladin gear. He hummed to himself, locking the door behind him. Ripley check around Larkin’s shoulder— and then tensed. Oh... fuck. That guy looked familiar. Reuben Howard. He worked as a paladin for the Abbey. He only joined for a few days. Ripley was pretty sure he was not, in fact, a paladin at all— he’d joined from another temple, and his papers look faked— but Ripley had kept her mouth shut at the time. Ripley ducked around the corner. “That guy’s gonna recognize me,” she said under her breath. Then she realized, suddenly, that Reuben had been there when they’d rescued her from the Abbey. “Fuck,” she said. “He’s going to recognize both of us.” She reached for her magic again. She could knock him out. Put him to sleep. '''Jen: at 12:52 PM Fucking Reuben? Goddamn. That guy was about the last person Larkin would've expected to see here. Well, it was sad Reuben had decided against taking up her job offer but Ripley was right. If it was true that these people had connections to the thieves' guild, Larkin didn't want them to know she'd been hunting in their territory. She glanced up to the Skylight she'd climbed into - dropping down had been easy enough but it was center above the corridor, too high for either of them to reach. Even if they gave each other a leg-up. They had to get past Reuben one way or the other. Larkin quietly drew the dagger she'd put away a moment before. She leaned in close to whisper into Ripley's ear. "Wait till he's up. Knocking him out." Coyote: '''at 1:03 PM POV Rueben paused. He’d come home after a long, well-deserved night of celebrating his latest acquisition, and he was still warm, pleased, and half-drunk. But his eyes focused on his brother’s doorway, which was open. And the rug, pulled aside from the safe on the floor... And the floor safe. Which was open. Oh, fuck. No. He’d just fucking gotten that thing. They would’ve been rich. They would’ve been set. He hurried into the room— then noticed, too late, the two figures that had been standing out of sight around the door. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he went for his sword. '''Jen: at 1:16 PM The moment Reuben came through the doorway, Larkin moved after him to knock the pommel of her dagger over his head. He spun around faster than she'd anticipated, though, and she hit him in the temple. He cried out, stumbled down to one knee but managed to get his sword up - swinging it aimlessly and hitting her hand with the flat side. The force was still enough to knock the dagger out of her hand and the tip of the sword grazed over a horn, rippig the hood off her head. She cursed and kicked at him. Her left hurt like hell but she still yanked another knife out of its sheath to go bury it in Reuben's stupid neck. Coyote: '''at 1:25 PM God damn it. Ripley was rusty, but she wasn’t turning a robbery into a fucking homicide. She moved between them, catching Reuben’s sword as it moved towards Larkin again. Dumb move, as it turned out. She felt a flash of pain as a blade dug into her side— she wasn’t sure which one of them it was. “Hang on,” she said through gritted teeth. She ripped the sword out of Reuben’s hands and tossed it on the floor. She grabbed him by the throat and held him down. Rueben’s eyes shifted back and forth between them. ___ POV Larkin Basha. Larkin fucking Basha. God, he was so fucked. Not sure about the other one— the other one’s hood was still up, but... still. “Larkin,” he said, clearing his throat. “Oh... oh good. I’m so sorry I— didn’t recognize you in the dark. My message must’ve reached you, eh?” '''Jen: at 1:35 PM Aw, shit. If he hadn't recognized her, Larkin might have actually listened to Ripley and stopped. But like this... "Nope," she said and moved around Ripley to stand beside him. "Haven't got any messages. Pity you didn't wanna take up my job offer." She glanced at Ripley and for lack of a better way to adress her, said "Boss. Get it over with. We need to get outta here." Coyote: '''at 5:51 PM Rueben thought fast. He swallowed. The other figure, the one who had him by throat, didn't move yet. Okay. Talking. "You didn't?" Reuben said. "Well. I left a message for you at your warehouse. After your, ah-- so generous job offer, I decided to accept, of course, but... I thought I'd get a, ah, gift, to impress you first. I got this opal, legendary thing, honestly very impressive... oh, gosh, you already found the floor safe, huh. Well, anyway, I managed to acquire it. I left a note at the warehouse asking you to meet me. Thought maybe you knew the right contacts to... move it, see, see if... maybe we could sell it whole." He cleared his throat. "So when I saw you here, of course, I thought, 'Ah! Larkin Basha! She must have gotten my message. But no. I suppose it... must have... gotten lost. What a funny coincidence you show up to rob my house, eh? But I forgive you. Bygones." '''Jen: at 6:02 PM Larkin rolled her eyes as he prattled on. Oh, Reuben. Admittedly, she liked the guy but she couldn't trust him and he had nothing to offer her. "You can cut it out, Reuben. I know you stole the opal the day you and your paladin friends cleared the residence. You had it the whole time." She shook her head and shrugged. "Sorry man. It's nothing personal but you're in with the guild now and I don't want 'em to know I've been here. So. Say a prayer or whatever. I'm making it quick." She crouched down beside him and set the blade to his throat - above Ripley's hand. Larkin glanced at her again, raising an eyebrow. Ripley was making this harder than it had to be. Coyote: '''at 6:12 PM Reuben tensed, shutting his eyes. Then the other one-- the slightly taller woman, who seemed to be human, maybe?-- said, "Wait, wait. Hang on. I'm getting an idea." She shifted, still keeping a hand on his throat. "I hire shifty fucks like this. I mean... normally I'd offer him a job... I could use someone in the Church, but... s'pose I'm not doing that shit anymore." Reuben shifted through this information. Tried to identify the voice, which seemed-- almost familiar, but not quite. She was a particularly dark-skinned woman, which was uncommon in Skyport. Originally from the Calish Desert, maybe, or even farther south than that. Something clicked, and Reuben placed her. Joan Ripley. Ah. His eyes shifted back to the tiefling, to Larkin. "Of course I had it the whole time. I mean, I'll cut the bullshit. I was trying to decide what to do with it. But I was, in fact, going to contact you. Larkin... if we cut this thing up, it loses half its value you. You know that. It's far more pricey intact. And what a shame, cutting a gem like this. But we'd need someone rich enough to buy it and keep it locked up, somebody with money to burn. And me, I don't have the contacts for that. Of course I was going to reach out to you. It's been two weeks. C'mon." They hadn't killed him yet. Reuben cleared his throat, which was a little hoarse from talking and being strangled at the same time. "You're a businesswoman, not a serial killer." '''Jen: at 6:23 PM "You need to murder several people in a row for that. You're the first tonight," Larkin said. But she did not press the blade down. Ripley did have a point there. Normally she'd hire these shifty fucks... and Reuben was one hell of a shifty fuck. And a paladin. Someone with connections to the inner gears of the Church and a debt to pay, if she let him live. Larkin had promised Goro to help take down the Church and someone like Reuben might come in handy then. She liked having options. Shit, but that still didn't mean she could trust him. "Two weeks is a whole lot of time. Takes only an hour to walk down to the docks. What've you been doing?" Coyote: '''at 6:26 PM "Measuring my options. Trying to find a fat cat buyer on my own. Realized I couldn't." '''Jen: at 6:27 PM "What about the thieves's guild?" Coyote: '''at 6:30 PM Reuben wet his lips with his dry tongue. "Who? Oh, Helena Baron? C'mon. With that tiny guild? How could she possibly compare to the Bashas? Why on earth would I go to her?" Also, Reuben had been trying to track Helena Baron for a fucking week, and he couldn't goddamn find her anywhere. November 27, 2018 '''Jen: at 11:31 AM Larkin pressed down on and drew the blade across Reuben's throat until it drew blood. He wailed and squirmed in Ripley's grasp but she held him down tight. Still, Ripley gave Larkin a look. She ignored it. "I told you to quit the bullshit, Reuben." Larkin stopped cutting but didn't lighten the pressure. "My intel told me your brother's got connections to the guild. So either what you're telling me is my information is wrong or the two of you just happen to bunk in guild territory, your brother having a well-going jewellery with all the windows intact, and you prancing around with a crown jewel, and the guild hasn't hunted you down yet? Please." She was talking fast and low now, her patience wearing thin. "More like you got a pretty offer and were waiting for the arrangements to be made." He wasn't selling himself very well. She wanted him in her debt but the gain had to be worth the risk. "Only reason I haven't cut your throat yet," and she leaned in a little more, "is because you can be more useful to me alive than dead. Problem is, I don't fucking trust you farther than I can spit. So you better start telling some fucking truths if you wanna see the sun go up." Coyote: '''at 12:09 PM Reuben gritted his teeth. The knife cut and stung. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fucking Bashas. “Yes. He does. Have connections, it’s true, but they don’t mean anything. Ahaha. I mean. The highest bidder, the best people for the job... that’s you, right?” Wrong response, apparently. She pressed down harder. The hand on his throat was making his head spin; maybe he wasn’t getting enough blood to his brain. “It doesn’t matter,” Reuben said. “I’ve tried to contact Helena Baron and I have no clue where the woman is. I was, in fact, going to try to contact you to sell this thing. That isn’t a lie! Look. You have the opal. Take it. There’s no point in killing me. What, are you offended I didn’t take you up on your job offer? I was going to, I was just doing other shit first. Good gods. I heard you were a professional, not a fucking sadist.” Oh, Helm protect him. Oh god. He shouldn’t have said that. God, he was going to die. Maybe she’d make it quick. Well, fuck it, it was out there now. He squinted at her, trying to look grim rather than scared shitless. Maybe she’d be impressed. '''Jen: at 12:19 PM She scowled at him. "Do I look like I'm having a blast here? I am a professional, you little shit, that's why I don't like leaving loose ends. Even if you don't go snitching to the guild, what guarantee do I have you'll shut up to your brother so he won't, huh?" Coyote: '''at 12:32 PM Reuben swallowed, which was a mistake; it squeezed his already painfully tight throat and cut the blade deeper. He wasn’t dead yet. Holy fuck. Okay. Maybe... maybe she didn’t want to kill him. Good gods. How could a two-ounce tiefling be so terrifying. “Look at this from my point of view,” he said. “I have... zero incentive to tell the Thieves’ Guild anything. How could that possibly benefit me? And if I did, I know for a fact you’d come back here and murder me and my brother. Guaranteed. You’re a professional and so am I. We’re both smart people, eh?” Huh. Every time he tried to smooze a little, her eyes narrowed. Okay. Bad. No bullshit, no smoozing. “I could be useful,” he said. “And if I worked for you... for the Bashas... I’d have even less incentive to tell anyone about this.” '''Jen: at 12:52 PM Larkin let the silence stretch for a moment. Then she sighed and took the blade away."Reuben, I really hope you won't make me regret this." She pressed a finger to his forehead, leaning in again and speaking slowly, carefully. "Remember, Reuben fucking Howard, we know where you live, we know your brother, we know about your whole family and where to find them. If you fuck me over, if you tell your brother or the guild or the church, I'll hunt you down and make you very, very fucking sorry. And if you think you can go and have me offed, you gonna find out what blood revenge really means. Understood?" Coyote: '''at 2:41 PM “Crystal clear,” Reuben said. “Clear as sparkling spring water. Clear as the sky on a warm spring day. Clear as—“ Ah, there was that look again. “Yes. Understood. Ma’am.” The hand on his throat let go. He staggered, grasping it, and took his first clear lungful of breath in what felt like hours. '''Jen: at 2:51 PM "Good." Larkin took a step back and watched him struggle to his feet. "You don't have to work for me. You can, if you want. The offer still stands. But what you owe me now is a favour. Anything, any time. No questions asked." She glanced over to where the jeweller still lay unconscious, then looked at Ripley. "Let's get the fuck out of here." Coyote: '''at 2:57 PM Reuben rubbed his throat, nodding. Well, Ripley thought. That went... okay. She eyed Larkin, automatically stepping back to let Larkin go first through the door— just in case Reuben, still behind them, became hostile. Her side still stung from the knife injury. She clasped her hand over it, healing. '''Jen: at 3:02 PM "He's gonna snitch," Larkin muttered as they left the shop. "I fucking hope he won't but he's sure as hell gonna. That or bolt." Only then did she notice Ripley's odd way of walking and the hand pressed to her side. "Hey, are you alright?" Coyote: '''at 3:15 PM “Yep.” Either Larkin or Reuben had stabbed her by accident when she stepped between them. Still wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. “All good.” Fuck, she shouldn’t have used healing magic in front of Howard. More clues for him to recognize her. If he hadn’t already. She didn’t realize how much blood she’d lost until she started walking. When she shifted, she felt blood under her clothes, where it had collected beneath her delicate chainmail, thick and wet. There was a small, dark stain showing through her outer tunic, but the rest was concealed. “Fuck,” she muttered as she walked. Her legs felt weak, and she stumbled a bit as they walked into the alley, but she caught herself. Larkin walked ahead of her, still. Maybe Larkin hadn’t noticed. “This might be where we part ways,” Ripley said, resting a hand on the alley wall. '''Jen: at 3:20 PM "What?" She turned to look at Ripley - and seeing her steadying herself against the wall, Larkin hurried back to take her by the arm. "What the fuck, Ripley?" Larkin patted Ripley's side where she'd held it a moment before and her fingers came away wet. Coyote: '''at 3:28 PM Ripley snorted, amused. She couldn’t tell if Larkin was concerned or just irritated with her for getting injured. Shouldn’t have been amusing, but it was. “Look. You step between two people with sharp objects in their hands, sometimes you get stabbed.” Ripley hitched up her tunic— and the thin layer of chainmail— to check it. The knife had punctured the chainmail. Must’ve been a weak spot, there, Ripley hadn’t noticed. Damaged links, maybe. Normally it wouldn’t have been bad, but it’d cut deep, and Ripley had ignored it rather than stop the bleeding. Her undershirt was soaked with blood— and part of her breeches, trailing down her leg to collect in her boot. Joan put a hand on the cut and finished healing it. She waggled her fingers, sticky and red. “You oughta learn magic, Basha. Fuckin’ useful.” '''Jen: at 3:41 PM "Yeah, that was damn stupid. Should've just let me stab the fucker." She watched as Ripley healed the cut. Looked nasty but the woman was still standing upright and making snippy comments. Didn't seem like she was on the verge of dying at least. "You know, I thought I should learn some," she said when Ripley was done and tugging her clothing back in place, "but I don't really have the patience for it. I'm more... practical." Coyote: '''at 3:56 PM “Aha. Yeah. You are.” She felt light-headed. That wasn’t good. “Well, the Prince will be glad to have this back. Hand it over?” She held out her hand, fingers still sticky with blood. Huh. You know, if she got mugged, somebody might take the opal from her dead body. Ripley pulled back her hand, still empty. “Nah, actually, nevermind. Maybe we meet up tomorrow. Daylight hours, maybe somewhere safer. I’ll pay you for your half of the job, then hand the Opal over to Mishka once he gets back. He knows how to talk to those noble folks.” '''Jen: at 4:05 PM "Yeah, no, not gonna happen." Ripley was putting up a brave show but was clearly worse of than she let on. Larkin saw her outstretched hand trembling and her speech was breathless and a bit slurred. No fucking way Larkin would just leave her here to faceplant herself on the cobble stones and get mugged or worse. If nothing else, fucking Goro would skin her alive if she did. "Come on," she said and put an arm under Ripley's shoulder. "Let's get you somewhere you can lie down. Details later." Coyote: '''at 4:11 PM “Nah, nah, nah. I don’t lie down. I don’t—“ She tried to pull herself away and immediately realized, nope, that was a mistake. She reluctantly allowed Larkin to support her. “Eh. Whatever. Lots of vicious little thieves on this street. You’re right. Better not risk it.” She wondered what Amari would think of this. Nope. Not thinking about Amari. They headed down the street. '''Jen: at 4:18 PM END Category:Text Roleplay